Something Stolen, Something Sweet
by Stronger-Than-Fear
Summary: something bitter that burned


**Well, here's a story. Though written in the hours of 10:30pm-1am on a mobile device, I am still pretty proud of this piece. (AU where the Gallagher Academy isn't so overwhelmingly heterosexual.)**

 **I do mention underage drinking and some touchy touchy (not explicit) but there's nothing too serious contained within these 2,000ish words.**

 **Beta'd by the wonderful and ever-loyal autocorrect. Soz bout it.**

 **No copyright intended; all rights go to Ally Carter for her characters and her story. I'm kinda just manipulating it bc I'm bored af.**

*•.•*

They were trained to keep secrets, and they did it well. No one ever found out; no one ever suspected. They were in the clear for quite time.

It started when they first met, but neither fully understood at the time. They would flash shy smiles across the lunch table and would sit a little too close during movie nights, but it wasn't noticeable. Paper notes with graphite hearts would discreetly slide under tables and sleep nestled between pages of chemistry notes. Fingers would brush and feet would bump, and no touch was ever enough. no one ever noticed, not even when their hands would intertwine between classes or their arms linked in town. It was as if everyone was blind.

They started as strangers, but over the year that had grown as friends, their innocent relationship sweeter than a peach. It was only friendship, but they were closer than anyone expected them to be.

They split for summer, geographically, but not even the miles between could keep them apart. Their messages of joy and hope and not-quite-love trekked from to one the the other via email. The Internet, the guardian and caretaker of young crushes, was their best friend. Neither were ever seen away from their computers or without their phone.

The reunion consisted of sunburnt arms, the color of cherries and cardinals' wings overtaking her milky complexion, caramel skin kissed by the golden rays of sunshine, and cheeks that were carnations in full bloom. They gripped each other tight, and they no longer needed the internet. They had each other.

Personal space no longer existed, and one became two, "me" became "we", and smiles stretched ear to ear at the mere thought of the other _. "Best friends,"_ others would say. But how wrong could someone be?

Passageways were their favorite. Dusty and dirty and deadly silent, that's where the two found each other in the dead of afternoon, out of the spotlight of judgement and jokes, where they could simply be themselves. In the north corridor on the third floor, there was a special stone that turned, revealing a room no larger than your average closet, but it would suffice.

Neither had the intention when they entered the hideaway, but with the tight squeeze and warm air and the absolutely intoxicating hormones, lips met lips in a chapped frenzy of emotion, manicured nails tangling in curls and sliding over blushing cheeks, it was only the beginning.

They were fire, burning bright.

Every waking moment was spent together, and even a few of the times when eyelids were heavy and blankets were warm, excused by "math tutoring sessions" or "too tired to move."

The smell of strawberry shampoo was just too sweet to deny, and there were several nights when pajama-clad legs would tangle together, hearts and clouds and cotton.

Kisses that tasted of sugar, kisses that tasted of chocolate, and rare kisses that tasted of stolen wine, sweet and slightly wobbly.

Summer happened again, and with the air smelling of flowers and the sun burning high in the afternoon sky, they said their farewells and flew to their respective places on the planet. Texts and calls and midnight Skype sessions, whispering voices and heart emojis. They promised that they would always be together.

The leaves fell in a flurry of crunchy colors, quickly covered by an icy blanket of glittering snow. Christmas consisted of charm bracelets and cheery smiles and chaste kisses. Lots and _lots_ of mistletoe.

But when the sun decided to melt the ice and turn everything to mush, the beauty of spring bloomed challenges as well as roses.

Boys. Well, one boy specifically. Tanned skin, thick muscles, and a smile that could blind the sun. Skinny legs, crooked nose, and feet that could trip themselves. There was no competition between the boy that was ripped from the pages of every tween magazine and the girl that fell from the "before" section of any makeover article.

And that was that. There was no happily ever after, no fairy tale endings, just someone giggling at the wrong person's joke and studying the wrong person's notes and holding the wrong person's hand.

Nights had become colder, the room chilled by unsaid words and separate beds. One pillow became two, "we" became "you."

It had almost drifted into nothing, forgotten as all young loves do, until the dam of emotions broke one night because the boy-god had lips stained with red, and she only ever wore pink.

Tears soiled satin chemises, the taste of salt on abandoned lips found once again. Apologies were burned between kisses, familiar tastes on familiar mouths. The puzzle of their life had been ripped to pieces and rearranged, but the picture was starting to look clearer and not quite as bleak.

Summer passed, and they grew back together like vines ripped from trellises only to reach for the light once again.

When the leaves fell, so did moods. Danger, danger followed their friend. Because of the burden of adrenaline that their friend couldn't escape, their almost-love took the backseat (figuratively, but also literally). It was a cat-chase-cat scenario, but the agents were simply chasing their tails.

At first they hid behind the brick wall of secrets and lies, everyone else preoccupied with finding their demons, but it became too much. Gentle kisses that were delicate like stained glass had shattered into angry shards, lips on lips with no emotion other than anger. Almost-love was buried under a blanket of definitely-frustrated.

When things had just seemed to look up, with the superiors boarding in flighty friends from frivolous feats, it all became too real. They couldn't pretend anymore, they couldn't ignore the facts. It was dangerous.

They had been hidden, but they were no escape artists like their best friend.

They never expected her absence to take such a toll, but when looking at the other was reminiscent of an MIA friend, it was hard to stay so close. There were days where they never spoke for fear of crying too much or too loudly. There were days when their hands never separated, their lips, their bodies. There were days where they would just disappear from the overlooking eyes of parents and professors and peers, somewhere secluded and alone where their deepest fears would come to light in the form of warm whispers.

The nights, oh the nights. The moon would shine high above the ring of trees and the tall wall that kept them safe, kept them captive. One of them would have a bottle of something stolen, something sweet- something bitter that burned. They'd drink til the glass shattered on the ground, their problems forgotten as they got drunk off the taste of each other's lip gloss. They never quite remembered those nights. How close, how far, how much. Under the spell of alcohol, it was definite that a certain three words were mumbled again and again under moans and kisses.

Three words: sometimes genuine, but they were mostly just the illusion of chemicals and hormones that one too many glasses of Chardonnay had prodded their brains and hearts to release. They didn't quite remember the nights, but they remembered the words.

They tried to say it sober, tried so hard. But those three syllables choked them, made them suffocate on feelings that they shouldn't have. They shouldn't be happy. Their friend is missing. They should be scared.

They drank away the fear.

She went to some city in Europe with her parents, and she went to some city in Alabama to her family. They'd still send their little heart emojis, but the feelings were gone, numb. The declarations of love that almost came were not of any true merit, rather just to show that they were there. They weren't leaving.

Summer came and went with a gust of wind, ruffling budded and blooming trees with no sign of their lost sister. Though a piece of them was missing, they were forced back into plaid skirts and stiff chairs to learn about how to find people, how to lose people.

They pretended to be okay. They pretended to be alright.

Nothing was okay. Nothing was alright.

There were no longer any need for the excuses or secrets, their kisses didn't need to be silenced by locked doors and hall passes. The label of "just friends" didn't need to exist.

But it's not like anyone paid them any attention. If they wanted, they could probably lay on the breakfast table and go about their business while the rest of their sisters shrugged and continued to frown at their Cheerios. The sister that was gone had taken a chunk out of everyone's heart.

There was one sister that remained who did notice the two friends/lovers/ _whatever the hell they were_ , but she didn't have much to say. It just became into a nightly routine for her to watch them exchange a goodnight kiss and nestle between their covers, murmuring nothings until their breathing synced and their snores started. It became normal.

They would all miss Cammie, the two would kiss away the hurt, and the final would apply her eyeliner like war paint. It was normal.

Then one day, arriving with the spring breeze and cumulus puffs, a helicopter squashed the grass and flattened the dandelions. And out came their missing sister.

Oh, the lovers thought no one cared beforehand, but they finally realized the true meaning of invisible.

Everything became about her. Cammie is sick. Cammie is upset. Cammie Cammie _Cammie_.

The third friend watched in confusion as the lovers kept to their separate beds, tangled in cold sheets and matching pajamas. They had come so close to being out in the open, so close to not caring what others thought. But someone showed up and immediately pushed them into the closet.

Cammie constantly teetered on the edge of her tightrope, her isolated bubble of her doubts and delusions, and her friends were supposed to watch. Don't say anything to upset Cammie, don't say anything to trigger Cammie.

No one talked.

But when she snapped, buckling under the pressure of her own nightmares, everyone was there for her. They would pat her back and stroke her hair and tell her that everything was alright.

Nothing was alright.

Their final year of school, which was supposed to be full of cute memories, signed yearbooks, and their last true testaments of childhood, was nothing that they'd expected.

Like a stone in a slingshot, they somehow got flung around the world on a whirlwind chase. Lines were crossed and danger looked everywhere.

When one lover lay on the ground, soaked in crimson drops and breathing heavy gasps, the two finally learned the meaning of undying love. She could finally murmur the words that had been choking her, " _I love you, I love you, I love you."_ Her salty tears mixed and swirled in the blood, and she prayed to a God that she hadn't talked to in years.

" _Don't die, don't die, don't die."_

The boy-god showed up and saved the godamn day, but their entangled fingers and locked eyes made it clear to him that it wasn't the time nor place for him to make a move. It was their time.

The gaggle of teens were continued to be tossed around the globe, unsupervised and unsafe. Between dangerous missions, the lovers found themselves locking eyes and saying nothing.

It was a good nothing.

With their feelings in light, the golden, warm light that reminded them of easier times, they found that they didn't need to say anything. What words couldn't convey, entangled fingers and forehead kisses relayed the message perfectly.

And when all was said and done, they were left in the ashes of their home, the remains smoldering around them to remind them of all they've done, all they've been through.

But they were alright.

When they were surrounded by their sisters, and they all wore their burgundy cloaks and caps, golden tassels tangling in perfected curls, they were more than alright. Farewell speeches were made, tears were shed, and hugs were exchanged.

Everyone was about to go their separate ways, launched into their future of untold mysteries. Standing there, under the warm summer sun in their least comfortable shoes, the girls knew their future.

After final remarks were made by Headmistress Morgan, the graduation caps flew into the air, and a cloud of the stress and anxiety floated away. As the hats started to rain back down, Bex and Liz locked eyes and shared a smile. They had nothing more to hide.

In the middle of a crowd of their closet peers, friends, and family, their arms entangled and their lips locked.

Everyone saw. Everyone has always seem them. They were just too blinded by each other's love to notice anyone else.

And that was alright.

*•.•*

 **I'm trying out a new style, and want to know if it works. Obviously not all my stories could be written this way, but I do have a few other ideas up my sleeve... (also soz if the ending seemed rushed, I kinda forgot order of events in UWS and haven't read it in forever...(also I've been working on this for a while and wanted it to be done))**

 **Since you've made it this far, I think you should review and tell me if you liked it. :)**

 **xx**


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